People who mix up terms like that shouldn't be doing scinece, if you ask me. Unless of course they were actually channeling a higher truth based on the semantic equivalent of the Klein surface, where meaning itself turns back on itself and ends up transparently inverted. That could be really important...

I have a theory that the rabbit hole down which the estimable Mr. Dodgson had young Alice fall was, in fact, a rabbit Klein surface*. And I'm not talking about one of those 3-dimensional wannabe Klein bottles one can buy on the Interweb, but the real deal which only exists in four dimensions.

I have evidence to support this theory in the form of previously unpublished pen-and-ink drawings, originally produced as illustrations for Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Said draings prominently feature a creature which seems to be a cross between a dog and a duck.

* The Klein bottle was originally called the Klein surface. It was mislabeled due to confusion between the German words for "surface" (Fläche) and "bottle" (Flasche).

♫♫ IF your mind is full of dust If you fear to make a crust ♫ If other posters are unjust Come on down to MOAB! ♫♫ You can find your heart's contentment Wash away fear and resentment, ♫ Voice those often buried sent'ments Come on down to MOAB! ♫

♫ Mom's place is for sure the place, the only place for you! When the world looks like BS it's the place you too should come down to, To make BS come true!

♫

Oh, if you think folks are deceiving, If entropy has got you grieving, If the Cat you've thought of leaving, Come on down to MOAB! ♫ If you tired of acting stoic, Need to show your heart egoic, Want a chance to share a joic COme on down to MOAB! ♫

When I was younger, people would stop talking and look at me whenever I entered a room. I realized then that I had PRESENCE, but a young lady friend suggested a deodorant might help. I had thought that all those people were retching because they'd had too much to drink or something....

I know what you mean, Rap. Do you ever get that heady feeling as you're walking through a door....

"The most brilliant person here has just entered the room."

Do you have inspiring personal theme music that plays on a ghetto blaster wherever you go to let people know that YOU have ARRIVED? I do. It really helps set the mood properly, I find. Kind of like when Hulk Hogan advances to the ring...or Obama to the microphone...or Woody Allen to the jazz club...or Tiger Woods to the boudoir...

Or an infinite number, since no matter how many you put into the Hall, the Hall will be still empty by normal definition, although it will be chockablock full of holes. But the thing is, no matter how full, you could always add a hole. No-one would notice because it would become one with the existing population of holes, which had in turn already formed a perfect Union of Holes thus achieving a Co-Existence of Absence, a truly rare and exalted state of Being. And any holes you added would definitely be slurped up into said Co-Existence this joining the Great One Hole.

If you then brought an oboe into the Hall, the oboe by its nature would be adding several more holes to the sum, yet somehow, even though those holes were presumed to be part of the Oboe, yet they too would become part of the One Hole. Withal, mirabile dictu the One Hole would not become any deeper for the addition. Nor would it become any shallower if the oboe left.

This provides a terrific recipe for meditation; seek the holes between your thoughts and find the One.

The freds don't eat the holes, silly; they leave them lying around like so many Mars bar wrappers, although not always where they started.

As for the covers, the freds were required by the National Association for Decency Relating to Body Parts (NADRBP) to provide the covers to protect the modesty of the rabbits who used to eat, shit, copulate and shower inside the holes. Otherwise, no more DNA.

...a fact, a fact!! And one which LH knows full well. But by reversing it with his egoic question, he injected more Pure BS intot he thread, thus accelerating the momentum toward whatever it was BWL said was happening,.

Something significant happens here with each post. Each post adds to the cumulative total of BS required to achieve the goal of a totally MOABic state of consciousness. Each post is laden with the potential for being the one that lifts the cover from the rabbit hole.

YEah, bring Mom along. Thanks to Gluon, she's timeless, and these little whiplashes on the road to maturity will not appear. Sigh. I think the toughest part about growing up, for sure, is having to start a next generation and somehow steer it while nurturing its self-determination. Young folks are so wildly different one to another.

Maybe I'll make a birthday pie for him. Except, he prefers to spend his birthday with his girlfriend who is taking him to dinner and a movie. I offered to take them both to dinner and then they could do the movie. I was let know promptly that the very best, special, present I could give him was to function as the chauffer who magically disappears between dropping them off and picking them up again at the end of the evening.

Looks like I will spend an intimate Friday evening in the gardening and cookbook sections of Barnes & Noble, revving myself up on Starbuck's finest.

Maybe I should bring MOM along, and we can hang out at the Sport's Bar instead. Eh?

Well, the only kind of pie crust that crosses my threshold is one with a pie already baked inside it. I'm very much a do-it-yourselfer, but some things are best left to professionals. Heart surgery, nuclear powerplant maintenance, and pies are good examples.

I make very good pie crust. A co-worker was having difficulty with a crust recipe she had been using, and remembered I'd brought or said something about pies at work, so asked me about her recipe. It sounded un-bakable. I sent her my recipe, and now I think I hear from her every time she makes a pie--thanks for that recipe! Obviously she has to make it and it comes out good because she does it correctly, so I just gave her the tool. But if you want a good recipe, look inside the cover in most of that Better Homes and Garden's (red and white plaid) cookbooks. Don't over work it, and don't put in a drop more water than you need to make it just hold together.

Satori is a Japanese word used in Zen Buddhism for the phenomenon of Sudden Awakening, that Place where the distinction between Experiencer and experience, Knower and known, is erased, and the separative sense of personal self ("I am me, and you aren't") is extinguished. ...

www.zoofence.com/define07.html

Like, wow, man. Yon Rapaire has a recipe for shrimp satori!!

Do they go, like, "The school is One...the sea is One...we are shrimp, but we are the Ocean...". Like, wow, man...And then you eat them, see?

Stilly said: (in part) "...were told they could only eat the pie shapes if they ate them with the stew ...I have to keep making the pie crust in cookie cutter shapes to make them happy. They're 17 and 21. "

At those ages, let them make pie crusts themselves!!!!! If necessary - have them cheat - give them each a frozen pillsbury crust and a cookie cutter for christmas.

That full-body anesthesia is not fun, but I figured out that part of the reason it was like the worst hangover you can imagine is that they used Versed first. That is nasty stuff but is used routinely unless you tell them not to. It added a day to my hospital stay the last time they used it.

I dunno, man. Every few years lately I've been like, you know, gettin' gorta like a full dose of anesthesia, and then they, like, the last time gave me two shots of morphine when I came out of the operating room and hydrocodone and T4 and like I think I'll like, you know, go get whittled on a coupla times a year 'cause it's like, cool, ya know? Maybe I'll go become a doctor just for like the dope, ya know?